Rosa
by Gemini Explorer
Summary: Finn and Marguerite rescue a young woman from villains in London, but find that they pursue her. Roxton and Challenger come to the aid of their wives and the new maid, Rosa. Can they save the day, and the girl...and themselves?


Disclaimer: This Fic includes some characters from the TV series, "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World", as well as characters of my own creation. Some relationships are more evolved than on the TV show, the Roxtons and the Challengers now being married and off of the Plateau for about two years. THIS FIC IS RATED AS MATURE. It has adult relationships and themes, which may prove puzzling or stressful to young readers. Also, some violence is involved as villains are stymied, and there is some (moderate) sexual content.

This one is mainly about Finn and Marguerite and their husbands, but new characters also appear. All characters are fictional, save for historical figures, who appear in a fictitious context. When reading, keep in mind that the Challengers and the Roxtons both have London townhouses, although they spend more time at their elegant country estates. Those not familiar with my fics should know that Jessie Challenger died of flu in 1921 (in my stories), freeing George and Finn to marry after they left the Plateau. Thanks is expressed to the rights holders of, "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World" for their permission to use characters of their creation. This story takes place after the Third Season, without regard for the cancelled Fourth Season. G&F were not romantically "canon" on the show, but after cancellation, Canon is best regarded as a Japanese camera brand or that of American bath towels. (Winking Smilie here.) Keep in mind that the story reflects the social values and speech of the times. NOTE: The explorers deny having found dinosaurs on their expedition, to prevent people invading the Plateau in force, upsetting the balance of power and putting Ned and Veronica Malone at risk.

"Rosa"

by

Gemini Explorer

London, 1927

Mrs. George Challenger was at residence in her London townhome one morning when her maid, Clarice, announced that she was leaving.

"Sorry, ma'am, but I'm getting married to Gene, and we're going to move to Yorkshire, to live near his family. I thought I'd better give you two weeks notice. I haven't told the master yet. I thought that you might prefer to do that."

Finn Challenger told the girl how much she'd be missed, and added that she would indeed tell her husband that she was leaving.

"Thank you, Mrs. Challenger. The master is a wonderful man, but he can be a bit grumpy if he's upset. I wouldn't like to guess how my leaving might affect his mood. But he's never testy with you, ma'am, or very seldom. He loves you too much for that. And maybe your being so beautiful keeps him from getting mad at you."

Finn laughed. "He gets grumpy with me, Clarice. We just try not to fight unless we're alone. But you're right: I get in trouble with my husband less than any woman I know. I adore him, and he knows it, and I guess that helps. And he seems to think I'm rather special, too, so we look out for one another's feelings. And we don't fight where the kids can hear." (The Challengers had two very young children, Arthur and Caroline. And Finn seldom opposed her husband, in fact only rarely had cause for disagreements. She considered herself a very lucky woman, and was slightly in awe of her genius mate. In turn, he sometimes literally perched her on a fancy wooden pedestal in their bedroom, to show his pleasure in her.

"Look, Clarice," said Finn, "give me an address where we can send a gift, or I'll get you one here before you leave. I insist; you've done very well here, and we'll miss you. But I've met Gene, and I see why you love him. He's a nice bloke." (Finn was Brazilian by birth, but now often used language more typical of her present home in Britain.)

"Thank you very much, ma'am," said Clarice. "We've got a bridal registry at Harrod's, but if that's too grand, anything will please us both, I'm sure."

"No worries, Clarice. I'll tell the Genius that you deserve something from Harrod's. He may grumble, but only a little. He'll be more upset that we have to find a new maid. You'll be hard to replace. Oh: my friend will be downstairs in a moment. Can you bring breakfast in now?"

"Yes'm", said Clarice. "I'll let cook know. Thank you ever so much, ma'am." And she left for the kitchen.

Finn said a very unladylike word.

"Good heavens, is that the Finn Challenger whom I know?" asked another female voice as a stunning brunette in her mid 30's entered the parlor, where Finn stood by the windows.

"Damn it, Marguerite, my maid has just quit, and our nanny is leaving, too. One's marrying, and the other wants to go home to Wales, to be with her parents."

Marguerite smiled wickedly. "Well, there's a possible fringe benefit here, Finnykins. Tell George that they left because of you. Maybe he'll spank you. You'd love that, I'm sure." And Marguerite, Countess of Avebury, laughed at her best friend.

Finn colored and told Marguerite that if she wanted a spanking, she'd find a way to get it without losing her household staff. But she blushed a little because Marguerite knew that she did sometimes provoke her man just enough to take her over his knee. Usually, both partners knew that she was trying for that, and Challenger pretended to be angrier than he was. There were also some role-playing games that Finn liked that involved similar results, which excited her. It thrilled her to know that she was subject to her husband's discipline, but he had almost never punished her in earnest, as many men still did in those days of the 1920's. On the contrary, Challenger usually treated his wife as some delicate, priceless porcelain doll, treasured and handled with care, except when Finn wanted rough lovemaking. She knew how George felt about her, but didn't always want to feel that she was on a pedestal, her man gazing at her in near-worship. Never mind that she was often teased for nurturing him like he was her champion and lord...In truth, the Challengers had a marriage that bordered on a mutual admiration society, with only two members. Each seemed to think that the other shined with a radiance that eclipsed the Sun.

Marguerite enjoyed razzing Finn for that, although she herself loved her Earl with a passion that competed with that of the other couple. But Marguerite was more private, more reserved. Finn, a decade younger, was more open about how she saw her mate. That she regarded him as a mentor and father figure as well as her lover and the father of her children influenced her admiration of him on several levels.

But Marguerite was careful not to tease Finn about those aspects of her union with George, for the couple was sensitive about their age difference. And Prof. George Challenger was also Marguerite's best male friend and the best friend of her own husband, Lord John Roxton.

Now, the women sat at the dining table in a breakfast nook in their robes, as breakfast was served. The male Challenger soon arrived, dressed for business in a charcoal double-breasted suit, laying his topcoat, hat, and briefcase on a side table. In his fifties, he was still a strong man, well turned out. His wife was not the only person who would describe him as "distinguished" in appearance.

"I'm sorry to have to rush off, ladies, but I have a meeting at the Ministry of Defence to convince those bureaucratic idiots that my new bogie wheel design will make a superior tank. I suppose that they'll more likely buy my improved formula for Cordite gunpowder for ammunition in Service rifles. Churchill is meeting me for the presentation, and he has some influence there, thank goodness. We're having lunch after, and talking politics. What are you girls going to do to waste your day?" He grinned at his wife and their guest.

Finn told him that Clarice was leaving and that she and Marguerite were probably going to shop for a wedding gift and something for themselves.

Challenger beamed. "Superlative plan, Darling. You women are well equipped for that sort of activity. It's in your lovely genes." He winked to show that he was teasing. "Look here, while you're at it, put in a call to the domestic help agency and see who they have to replace Clarice and Glenda." Glenda was their nanny.

As Clarice and the cook brought in the silver-domed serving dishes and the coffee service, Challenger told Clarice that he was saddened to hear of her impending departure. The maid seemed relieved that he was taking the news calmly, and fussed over serving him until she caught a look from Finn, who said that she would now wait on her man.

This wasn't uncommon, Clarice knowing that her mistress often preferred to attend to the master personally. She thought it was rather sweet of her, and excused herself to have tea in the kitchen with the cook before they cleaned up the breakfast dishes. She would miss serving this couple, who had rather relaxed rules for their employees, as long as everything got done well.

After some 40 minutes, Challenger rang for a taxi, explaining that Churchill was having his driver bring him home. "Certainly beats finding a parking place near the Ministry," he explained. "By the way, Darling, take a cab, yourself. I don't like worrying about you ladies in London traffic if you take the Rolls. And Henry (their chauffeur) wants to run the car into the agency today for a tune-up."

Finn promised to do as he said, and walked him to the door when the taxi arrived. She hugged him firmly as she kissed him goodbye. "Sell lots of tank wheels, Genius," she teased, and he was gone.

Marguerite had sent for more coffee, and she and Finn sat, discussing the remains of the day. "At least, we began well," chirped the noblewoman. "I feel sorry for little people who can't begin the day with coffee."

She wore a maroon robe of fine quality, and Finn thought it looked like Christmas colors at her table, her own robe being a deep green one that matched one that she had bought for her husband. Finn had bought herself two robes of that hue, this one being ankle length. The other reached barely halfway down her desirable thighs, and was usually not worn downstairs, with company present. Usually she slept in panties or nude, and the robe concealed that she wore no gown. The shorter robe was worn most often when the servants had a night off, and she and the Genius had put the children to bed for the evening. Finn liked the way she felt in the short one, with next to nothing beneath. It made her feel free, cool, and uninhibited. But she liked cuddling in this long one, too, loving its warmth and the feeling of being protectively cocooned in luxury.

Marguerite gave her a shrewd look. "How are you coming along after Caroline's birth, Finny? You look as if you're back in shape."

"Um," agreed Finn. "I'm doing the same exercises that I've done since my early teens, and some that I heard were good for getting back to normal after childbirth. Sometimes, George lies in bed and watches me exercise. I think it turns him on. It gives me incentive, and I get a rush from feeling his eyes on me. I'm going to take care to look good for him, and for my own pride and health. Just because I'm an old married woman now doesn't mean that I'm going to let myself get flabby!"

Marguerite laughed. "You're married, but hardly old or flabby. You still look like you're barely out of your teens, and you lack several months being 26. I wish that I was that young again. Thankfully, John likes me as I am. I just have to waddle along, approaching 36." (In fact, she was youthful for her age, looking barely 30.)

"You hardly waddle, Marguerite," said Finn. "I've seen you undressed, and you're about as trim and firm as I am. Hey, do you want more orange juice? I do." And she rang for Clarice.

The ladies settled on what to wear for their expedition, Finn opting for a short-sleeved dark blue dress cut rather low in front, with white high heels. She added a gold necklace with a gold coin pendant bearing the likeness of an Aztec calendar, and a slim gold bracelet on her right ankle, with a coin-like medallion the size of an American nickel bearing Old English letters: her and George's names on one side, the other. inscribed with the date and place of their wedding. Marguerite chose an expensive white frock with pink and green roses on it. Both skirts barely covered the knee, rather daring for that day. (Truth be told, the women were rather proud of their superb legs.) Finn wore gold hoop earrings an inch across, Marguerite opting for more subtle pearl earrings with silver fittings. And Marguerite had a pearl necklace that cost more than some families earned in several months. She liked the way it went with white and red dresses.

They ensured that the nanny and Clarice had instructions about the children, and rang for a taxi. As they waited, Marguerite called her spouse in Avebury, but he was short with her, explaining that he was involved in arguing property values with the tax assessor.

"The solicitors are here, Marguerite. I'll call you tonight. You and Finn have fun shopping. Stay out of trouble."

"I will, John. I'm a good girl now," the Countess promised. "Except when we're alone and I can get you to act like a bad boy, which is easy, I'm delighted to say..."

She laughed and said goodbye, and the girls strolled out to meet their taxi.

Neither of them had any idea that they were walking into danger.

CHAPTER TWO

The taxi driver was a Cockney, and seemed a friendly sort. "'Allo, Duchess," he greeted Marguerite, holding the cab door for her.

"She's not a Duchess," corrected Finn. "Lady Roxton is a Countess, the Countess of Avebury. But I met the Duchess of Bedford at her wedding."

The driver chuckled, "I'm sure you did, love. You a Countess, too, are you, Miss?"

"She isn't joking; I am the bloody Countess of Avebury. And Mrs. Challenger did meet the Duchess at my wedding to the Earl a couple of years ago." Marguerite felt offended by the man's familiarity.

He cleared his throat. "Cor, maybe you are a Countess. You do have the look. Excuse me if I offended, ma'am. You really who the lass said?"

"Yes, I thought I made that clear. Look, here's my driving license. Believe my friend now?"

He looked and blanched. "Blimey! Well, no harm meant, ladies. I don't get a lot of traffic from the gentry, just a bit. And you, ma'am? Was that MRS. Challenger?"

"Um, hmm." Finn flashed her gorgeous diamond and emerald wedding rings, and the driver was impressed. Of course, the address was a good one. He shouldn't be surprised to find someone from the peerage living here or a guest...

"My husband is the greatest living scientist," Finn admitted modestly. "I'm not a Countess, but I am Mrs. George Challenger, which I'd rather be, anyway. But for now, we're just two broads off to do some shopping. Can you take us to Mayfair? We want to see some shops in that part of town."

"Certainly, Mrs. C. It's not that far, after all."

But on the way to Mayfair, Marguerite recalled a shop where she had done business for years. She gave the man the store's name.

He expressed concern, "That's a bit different than where we was going, ladies. Are you sure that two nice lookers like yourselves want to go there? That's getting on toward being a rum part of town."

"We'll manage. I knew my way around there a few years back. Shouldn't be too bad."

"Gone downhill a touch in the last few years, Countess. Want me to meet you somewhere later? Might be better than hanging around trying to summon a taxi."

"Yes. Do you know a pub called the Hound and the Hare?" She gave the address.

"Yes'm. It's been there for years. Know it well. Not that it's really a ladies' establishment..."

"Drop us off there, and come back at one. We should be ready by then, and will want to go to Mayfair for lunch and shopping."

And thus began a dangerous adventure, for which neither woman was prepared.

As they got out of the cab, Finn asked, "Why exactly are we here?"

"I used to deal with the proprietor here, and he was a connection to some people to whom I sold jewels and other items that I needed to dispose of to discrete collectors who paid me much more than ordinary fences would. I want to see if he can still put me in touch with an old connection who can get us a lot for the remaining artifacts that we took out of Xochilenque."

Finn looked worried. "Marguerite, do you and Johnny need money?"

"No," laughed the brunette woman. "But I do want to set some aside for emergencies. I'll hold onto some of the treasure, but I do want to get my hand in again. It's useful to have those friends in low places whom I've mentioned in the past. They sometimes come in handy when needed.

"Oh," she continued, "I also want to show you a shop near here where I'm leaving those dress and lingerie patterns that we worked on for the past couple of days. Marie-Claire there is a splendid fashion maker, and she'll charge us much less than anyone in Mayfair would. In any event, the fancy stores there are mainly retailers. To get items made, you usually have to know out of the way shops that will make custom items. We can replicate designer originals, including our own styles, for less than a quarter of what we'd pay in the big-name stores. I may be rich, but I don't like being ripped off all of the time by retailers with horrendous markups."

"Yeah," agreed Finn, "that'd be cool. But I still want to shop Mayfair later. I wasn't born rich, either, but I sort of like getting things in those famous stores. Sometimes, anyway. And we can see some things that this friend of yours can copy, too, I bet."

"Certainly", allowed Marguerite. "In fact, that's what we are still going to do. But I just realized that this is as good a time as any to stop by here first. Oh: now that I think of it, better take off your rings and hide them in your purse. If certain people down here see those rocks, they might want them."

"Marguerite, what kind of place is this? Look, I didn't bring a gun. I thought we were going to be in a nice area, a safe one. All I have is a German folding knife, one of those with a blade that locks open. Some hunters there use them instead of sheath knives. Are you armed?"

"Just with that flick-knife that I stole from Avery Burton. The LATE Avery Burton, I am relieved to say." (See the Lost World episode, "Trophies", and the Fic, "A Night in the Lost World", on this board for the account of Burton's death after returning to the Plateau and kidnapping Finn and Marguerite.) "I told you: I wasn't planning to come here today, until I realized that the taxi was going to go through this area. But we should be fine. If I have to, I'll slice some villain open with a cutting remark or two. If that doesn't work, we have our knives."

Finn looked dubiously at her friend, but took off her prized rings and wrapped them in a handkerchief in her purse. Marguerite did the same with her own rings, worth a small fortune. It was better not to put temptation in the way of thieves...

They took stools at the bar in the pub, and ordered ginger ale. This amused the barman, but he brought their drinks, and at Marguerite's request, went to get the owner.

When that worthy approached, he looked them over carefully, sharp eyes missing nothing. Then, he recognized the dark-haired woman and said," Well, as I live and breathe! It's flaming Miss Smith! Long time, no see, Marguerite. Who's your friend? Don't believe I heard her name."

"She didn't say," Marguerite said hastily, looking sharply at Finn. This wasn't the ideal place for Finn to begin bragging about her illustrious husband.

"Call me Jane," said an intrigued Finn. "Just Plain Jane, that's me."

The man smiled. "Jane, you may be, love, but you sure aren't plain. I'm Billy Winters, Jane, and I own this pub. Been in my family for three generations, it has. Sure you won't have more than ginger ale, or are you old enough?" He winked at Finn.

"I'm old enough," Finn teased back. "I turned 18 last week. But I like the way this stuff tingles on my tongue, and it's cheaper than champagne. And my mother here doesn't like for me to drink in public."

Marguerite rolled her eyes. She had forgotten that Finn was both very quick-witted and drolly sarcastic when she was in the mood.

"Look, Billy, let's talk in the back. I want to know if you can still put me in touch with a couple of chaps who I may want to do business with. And come to think of it, I want to buy a little something, if you have one in stock."

Billy looked soberly at her, gauging her sincerity. "You been gone awhile, Marguerite. Haven't been 'inside' for anything, have you?"

"Prison?" exclaimed the Countess. "Hell no, Billy. I've just been abroad, in South America for nearly five years. Then, I moved up north when I got back to Britain. But I'm establishing myself in London for occasional visits. I'm semi-retired, but anyone needs a little extra cash at times, and I have some items to sell."

"And Jane here? Is your 'daughter' working with us?"

"No, she's just my best friend. She can keep her mouth shut, but I think we'd better talk privately. She isn't in my line of work."

Billy nodded and led the way to his office.

"More ginger ale, Miss?" asked the barman.

"Yeah," said Finn. "But just one. It's best if I don't drink on an empty stomach. I do wild things and embarrass my mum."

The barman laughed. "You're a live wire, eh? Well, one ginger ale, coming up."

Marguerite discussed her relics with Billy and got his promise to contact a probable buyer. "I'll get you a number to call, love. Check back with me in about three days. And you're certain that these Aztec things are the real deal? I don't want to be a party to a swindle involving this bloke. He might take it personal, you know."

"Honest, Billy," Marguerite said. "I pried these from the cold, dead hands of Montezuma, himself. I'm much older than I look. And, anyway, have I ever offered anything that wasn't what I said it was?"

Billy nodded. "You've been upfront with me and my associates, love. I'll give you that. No worries, then: I'll make the call, and get you a number."

"Oh, one other minor thing," Marguerite said. "Have you got a shooter that I can buy? Something never licensed, that I can throw in the river if I ever have to use it. But I want something nice, and on the small side, for my purse. A girl can't be too careful in these times, you know."

Billy thought. "How about a Mauser .32? I bought one last week off of a former soldier who needed some cash. Hardly ever been used. Must have been owned by some Jerry staff officer in the war. Been tucked in a nightstand since. I got a box of ammo for it, too. Good stuff, DWM brand. Says 7.65mm on the box, but that's what the buggers call the .32 automatic cartridge. Don't know why they have to use that metric system. Maybe they just fancy being complex. If that doesn't suit, I got a couple of Webleys, a .32 hammerless and a MK III .38. Anything else, it may take me a few days, unless you'll settle for something larger."

"Let me see the Mauser," said Marguerite.

When she had examined it and looked over the ammunition, she asked, "How much? Cash on the barrelhead, if you're reasonable."

"Hey," said Billy. "You can't get one of these on any street corner. And this one is damned near new. I got risks and I can't give it away, even to a bird as lovely as you, Marguerite."

Fortunately, they soon got together on a price and the German pistol and a box of ammunition found their way into the Countess's purse.

Marguerite found Finn finishing a chicken sandwich, and offered to pay for it. But Billy waved off the gesture. "Just bring her back in here often, love. You two birds will attract business. The only ones here who won't like that are the working girls who come in around lunchtime to ply their trade. You'd be stiff competition for most."

Finn looked at him and deadpanned, "Not my thing, Billy. I'm kept by a rich old gent who really loves me, and Marguerite here has a similar deal with a man who has even more money. We don't have to 'trick' for a living as long as we put out plenty at home." She looked mischievously at her friend and teased, "Marguerite was glad to get out of that business and just has to lay this one guy now. He's even good looking. I was tempted to take him away from her, but I like her, and I'm kind of soft on my own sponsor. He's really good to me, and he likes it that I'm a nymphomaniac. Lots of men can't keep up with me." She tried desperately to keep a straight face. She laughed mentally as she pictured George and Johnny's faces if they could hear this conversation.

Marguerite gave Finn a dark look. "Time to go, Janie. You'll give away all of our secrets."

From the pub, they found their way to the shop run by Marguerite's friend, Marie-Claire Dumont. Finn gazed at the sign in the window: Le Chic Couture..

"Let me guess, Marguerite: this lady can't speak English, and you're going to do all of our talking, because my French is still rudimentary." Finn had begun studying French at Marguerite's insistence, but was making slow progress, mainly because she was only getting around fully after childbirth and had been busy finishing her third novel.

"She speaks good English, but mystique demands French words on the shop. Looks good, and she can charge more. Get it? Women like exotic fashion."

"I get it," grinned Finn. "Men like exotic dancers, and we like exotic fashion."

In spite of herself, Marguerite laughed. "Finn, you are irrepressible."

Once in the store, they found a warm welcome from Madame Dumont, who remembered Marguerite well, and had read in the papers and, _The Illustrated London News_ of her marriage to Lord Roxton.

"So, Marguerite, you 'ave done well weeth yourself. And who is your pretty friend? _C'es_t _un jolie mademoiselle! Tres chic_!"

"What's that about a Sheik?" teased Finn. "I'm not really into Arabs."

"This is Nicole Challenger, Marie-Claire. She's my best friend, but she makes horrible puns. Especially when she mixes languages. We met on her husband's South American expedition to find dinosaurs. George Challenger didn't find dinosaurs, but he found a bride. His first wife died while he was gone. Nicole's maiden name was Finnegan, so we call her Finn as a nickname."

"Aaah!" exclaimed the Frenchwoman. "So, you are the wife of so distinguished a scientist! I have read of his exploration!"

Marguerite began counting off numbers on her fingers. "Four, five seconds, six..."

"Marguerite, what are you doing?" a puzzled Finn demanded.

"I'm counting the seconds until you tell Marie-Claire that George is the greatest living scientist," Marguerite smirked.

"Oh," Finn said. "Well, he is. And probably the greatest husband, too."

"Ah!" laughed Marie-Claire. "_C'est amour_! It is good to see a couple in love. So often... But I forget my manners. Will the two of you join me in my office for croissants and coffee? It is just brewed, and I recall your fondness for good coffee, Marguerite."

"I'll have a cup, thank you. But Finn is too young for coffee."

Finn, laughing, said, "Maybe Mother here will let me have a glass of milk. Seriously, I'd love coffee."

Seated in the spacious office, the women munched on croissants and drank the aromatic coffee. Finn thought it was a bit too dark and strong, but knew that the French often drink the brew that way. She liked it like that, but only with strawberries.

They laid out the drawings of their dresses and lingerie, and Marguerite dug in her purse for three pair of panties, to show what they looked like. Based on Finn's ideas from the next century, they were much briefer and lacier than was usual in 1927. One was a conventional bikini style, one a thong, and the other, a string-sided one. Thus, Marie-Claire would have an idea of what each looked like and the dimensions. Marguerite and Finn wore the same size panties, so that was not an issue. (Their bra sizes differed, but they could often share dresses.)

Marie-Claire lifted a pair and exclaimed, "Oooh, la, la! These, you weel not find in the stores, no? Your husbands must love them on you."

And the ladies began discussing materials and sizes.

Finally finished, they placed orders, getting enough of several lingerie patterns that they could sell to friends, or give a few to special ones. Some items would be shipped to Veronica Malone in Brazil. She and Ned checked for packages several times a year in a town relatively near the Plateau. Of course, Veronica also sewed her own clothes from patterns that they'd left her. But good elastic was hard to obtain, especially with Challenger gone, and she treasured many manufactured goods that had to be brought in from the outside world. Indeed, at home, she normally wore the same brief outfits that she had since her early teens.

The ladies were told to return in a week to pick up their order, Madame Dumont complimenting them on their designs. "You show much talent, Marguerite and Finn. I shall await your return with pleasure. We shall celebrate with champagne_, non_?"

And the girls headed back to the pub to meet their taxi.

CHAPTER THREE

But two blocks away, a sinister drama was forming as two rough seamen and laborers not above such crimes as came their way were eyeing a pretty brunette girl who had just stepped off of a bus.

"There she is, Davy," said the older. "I told you, she gets off that bus this time every day. And when she comes through this street, we can drag her back into the rear alley and have our way with her. I checked that empty storeroom behind the chemist's: no one there again, and I unlocked it. You got that line to tie her hands?" (Being a seaman, he called ropes, "lines.")

"Yuh," said Davy. "Just don't be slow about getting a gag into her mouth once I got her. We don't half need her to scream. Show her your knife and tell her that you'll cut her, bad, if she yells and don't do what she's told. We need to get her around back and into that room fast, although not many people are back here this time of day."

The other man, Gerry, smiled. "No problem, mate. She'll scare easy, I bet, and she's a dago, I tell you. I think she's a Portugee. Maybe a Spaniard. She ain't dark like some of them, but she's a dago, for sure. I tried to talk to her once, and she don't unnerstand English too good. But she'll unnerstand a knife at her throat and being told to shut up, I bet."

"And a Portugee who can't speaka da English too good probably don't want no police involved is my guess. We'll tell her to keep her mouth shut, if she knows what's good for her. In a coupla days, we'll be at sea again, and even if the peelers look for us, we ain't gonna be there to be found." ("Peeler" or "bobby" meant a London cop.)

"Yeah," agreed the other man. "Look, have you got your cosh, in case we need to use it on her?" He referred to a lead sap, leather covered. It was used to render people unconscious, but could kill if not used skillfully.

"Yeah." Gerry took out the sap and slapped it against his left hand. "But I don't think we'll need it. Scaring her should be enough. And I don't want her knocked out while we do her. I got some things in mind for her to do to me, if you get my drift, and I want her awake and able to please."

Davy said, "Yeah, me too, mate. Right, here she comes, and the coast is clear. Get ready. Don't step out in the street until she's here. I don't want her to run."

As they took a short cut toward the pub, neither Finn nor Marguerite had any idea of what they were about to walk into. Nor, of course, did the lovely Hispanic girl in the cheap yellow cotton dress. But their destinies would soon be entwined, for better or for worse.

As the girl in the yellow dress passed the entrance to the alley where Davy and Gerry were lurking, the taller man looked at the other and nodded briskly. Davy stepped out to block her progress, and as she turned, the other thug stepped behind her to prevent her escape!

The girl realized that something was very wrong, that she hadn't just stepped in the wrong place as two men exited the alley. She started to scream, but Gerry placed his hand over her mouth and turned her so that his comrade in crime could seize her wrists and draw them behind her back. He held them there as he quickly tied them with the length of clothesline that he'd brought for the purpose. The knots were simple and fast for a seaman to fasten, and Rosa panicked as she grasped that she was being taken by two evil-looking men.

She wore a dress with a full skirt, allowing her to kick up and back with one foot. She nearly struck her target, but Gerry twisted aside, her shoe only grazing his upper leg. Davy bent down and pulled her feet from under her, and the girl was carried off with one man at each end of her. But Gerry lost control of her mouth as she struggled and he tried to carry her with his arm under her shoulders. She cried out.

Finn said, "Did you hear that?"

Marguerite stopped and listened. "It sounded like a girl screaming for help."

The girl in yellow bit the hand being forced over her mouth and slipped from the men's grasp. She immediately ran for the entrance of the alley, trying to balance with her hands bound behind her. Her high heels made avoiding a fall even more difficult.

Gerry grabbed her by the bodice of the dress, and the material ripped as he tore it half off of her in a rage. Davy grabbed her, but she rammed her forehead into his nose and he howled with pain.

"There!" said Marguerite, pointing. And she and Finn ran to help the nearly captive girl.

The girl tripped and fell to her knees as both men seized her and dragged her back out of sight.

Gerry held her as Davy forced her mouth open and slipped in a wad of cloth. He was tying another strip of cloth over her mouth to hold in the gag when the other women arrived.

"Let her go and leave, now, if you want the chance," said Marguerite, cocking the Mauser .32. Finn set down her purse and umbrella, clicking open her Puma (brand) lockblade folding knife.

"Well, looky here," exclaimed Davy. "You girls want to join our party? I could do with a blonde today. My mate here likes the brunettes better. Lay the toy gun down, lady and come on back here, and you won't get hurt." He snapped open a big pocketknife.

Fearing that he was about to threaten the captive woman's life to compel their surrender, Marguerite quickly shot the man in the left knee. He dropped the knife and fell, screaming.

"Get away from the girl," said Marguerite coldly. "You, the other wastrel: put away your knife and help your friend to go. Otherwise, neither of you will leave alive. Go now and stay away from the coppers, and no one hears about this. Bother her again, and I'll find you and you'll die. Understand?"

"All right, bitch," said Gerry. "We're going. But I'll find you later, you hear, and you won't have your little popgun ready."

"Bluster won't help." Marguerite said. "Threaten me again, and I'll kill you now, to make sure that we're safe later."

Gerry cut a look at the blonde. She was holding that knife like she knew how to use it and a look of grim determination was on her face. She had also opened it with a practiced motion, as if she had done it often, and knew very well how to manipulate it. There was fury in her eyes, but caution. Gerry decided not to grab for her.

Davy rocked back and forth, holding his knee. "For crying out loud, mate, get me outa here," he begged. So, his friend lifted him and supported him as he limped down the alley. If looks could kill, Gerry's eyes would have committed visual homicide as the men left.

"Cut her loose, Finny," Marguerite ordered, gun ready. She was watching the men turn the corner into the back alley.

"I'm on it," Finn snapped, and helped the girl in yellow to stand. Her sharp blade quickly severed the gag and then the cord on her wrists.

The frightened girl tore the cloth from her mouth and stammered, "Thank you, gracious lady. You have saved my honor, and maybe my life. I sorry not to be speaking better, but the English is not my friend. But bless yourselves."

_"? De donde son usted?"_ Marguerite asked, carefully looking at her and evaluating her accent. _"Espana?"_ (Note: Can't do language accent marks on this keyboard.)

The girl gave her a sharp glance, startled to hear those words from a presumed Englishwoman_. "Nao, senhora, Portugues_. Thank you from my heart. We must run. Those men may return, no?"

"Not if they have any sense," the brunette Briton told her. "I meant what I said; I'll kill them. We can't take chances with vermin like that."

Finn addressed the girl in fluent Portuguese." Where are you from in Portugal? I am Brazilian; I can speak to you. My friend is English, but also speaks our language. She has many tongues."

"I am called Rosa_, senhorita_, and I am from near Lisboa, Lisbon to the British. Aii, look at me! My dress, it is all ripped away in front. What shall I do?"

"Your knees are skinned pretty badly, too," noted Finn. "Marguerite, will your friend at the dress shop help, or should we run for the pub?"

Marguerite thought. "We'd better catch that cab, Finn. Rosa, put on my raincoat and button it. We'll take you to my friend's home and see that you get a new dress and that your injuries are treated. You may have a damaged knee. Can you walk?"

She could, but protested that she lived nearby and that she couldn't afford a new dress anything like what Marguerite and Finn wore.

"I'll give you a spare dress," promised Finn, "and I don't think you'd better go home for awhile. Those guys may know where you live. After we get you cleaned up and into new clothes, we can discuss the best thing to do. My husband will be home later, and he'll know."

Rosa glanced at Finn's hand. No rings. "You are married?"

"Yes, we hid our rings in our purses. Thought that we might be robbed in this part of town. Come on. If we aren't out of here soon, that shot will bring someone, and we'll be seen. I really don't want to take my chances with the law." Marguerite applied the safety catch and put her gun away.

Rosa was fearful. "Why you have the gun, _senhora_? You do not seem a bad lady."

"She isn't," promised Finn. "But you just saw why she carries one. She feared robbery or worse while we were here today."

She saw the taxi and raised her umbrella to signal the cruising driver.

He recognized them and pulled over, getting out to open the door.

"What's up, ladies? You been in a scrape, or something?" He eyed them warily, especially the new one.

"Yes, two scoundrels assaulted this lady. Take us back to my friend's place, and there's an extra ten quid in it for you if you forget that you saw us this time. My husband will deal with this. I don't want to be bothered by the police, not that we've done anything wrong, mind you. We're just being Good Samaritans." Marguerite knew that ten pounds (about $50 US then) might well ensure the cabby's cooperation. Money went further in those days.

"Yes'm," said the driver. "Er, your husband, ma'am?"

"Yes," replied a somewhat testy Marguerite. "I told you, I'm the Countess of Avebury. If need be, the Earl will come and deal with this, or have some government minister take care of it quietly if those fellows try for her again."

"Oh, yes ma'am, the Earl of Avebury. I seen him in the news when he's in Parliament and when you all got back from that long trip to South America." The impressed driver took the wheel, and they were at Finn's town house in 20 minutes. He got his fare and the added ten pounds.

Rosa's eyes got wide on hearing who Marguerite was, and when she saw Finn's residence, they got wider. What had she gotten herself into? This woman with the gun was of the nobility, and Rosa had seldom been in this part of town. The houses seemed very grand to one of her station in life.

The women helped a limping Rosa indoors, and Finn sent for hot water, disinfectant, and bandages. Her staff responded with alacrity, and Rosa was soon seated in the kitchen with a cup of superb tea as her new acquaintances dressed her scraped knees and elbows. The butler was told to arm himself, and the ladies got their own guns, in case they had been followed or the driver knew the criminals.

"Here," said Finn, rubbing an ointment carefully onto the girl's abraded areas before she applied bandages. "This is a superior medicine. My husband created it, and it saved several of our group and some _Indios_ from infections in the jungle. You'll heal fine, and there will probably be no scars. My husband is the greatest scientist of our times. You may have heard of him, Professor George Challenger?"

Rosa blanched, for she had heard of Challenger, on the radio and in the newspapers. "_Senhorita_, I mean _senhora_, (she glanced again at Finn's bare ring finger)" I am a poor woman. I cannot pay you for this treatment, let alone a dress such as you wear. I have only twice even ridden through this part of London."

Finn wiped off her hands, opened her purse, and put on her rings, raising Rosa's eyebrows. These rings looked to be worth a queen's ransom in poor Rosa's estimation. The brunette woman who was evidently a Countess now also had her rings on. They looked like something from the window of a famous jeweler, or from a museum.

Rosa cast an anxious eye at Finn's Smith & Wesson .38, the gun that she kept by her bed here in London. It was a twin to the one that she had carried in the jungle after getting it to replace her small crossbow. Most of her guns were at her country estate, but she went almost nowhere without a pistol at hand. Today's events had reminded her why.

Marguerite set her own revolver on the table in the dining area, and poured more tea. "Clarice, may we have some of those little honey cakes, or something?" she asked the maid. "Mrs. Challenger and I never got to have lunch, and I imagine that Rosa here is famished."

"Yes, Clarice, serve something for lunch," confirmed Finn. "Tell cook that I'm starving. Adventures affect me that way." Rosa noticed that she didn't seem too afraid, and that she handled that American revolver like she had been born with one in her hand.

"I'm going after some dresses that I think may fit Rosa," said Finn, and ran upstairs.

She brought back three dresses, and Rosa went into the loo and tried them on. She returned in a yellow one with royal blue hummingbirds on it. She was slightly taller than Finn's five feet seven inches, but the waist was a reasonable fit, and the only real issue was that the dress came a little higher on her legs.

Clarice took Finn aside and whispered, "'Ma'am, that dress is rather expensive. I think mine may fit Rosa better, and they're not nearly so dear in price."

So, Clarice was dispatched to her room to get several dresses, and they did fit Rosa better. Finn helped her to try them on, noting that Rosa had a trim body and a natural grace. Finn was glad that she had been working out. Apart from having larger breasts, Rosa had nothing on Finn's figure, and the blonde woman felt a certain satisfaction in that.

Finally, lunch was served. The cook had broiled fresh fish fillets and accompanied them with lemon-butter sauce and steamed green vegetables with rice. He offered a fine Sancerre, made from Sauvignon blanc grapes. Marguerite saw that the shipper was one of the best known on the Loire. Finn was learning wine well, and her distinguished husband had long enjoyed a glass of the best. A carefully chosen Sancerre in the best vintages and from the top bottlers was a very good complement to fish. Marguerite knew that Finn usually avoided Chardonnay wines, finding most too spicy or "woody". Chablis was the primary exception, and Challenger was fond of Chablis Grand Cru and Chablis Premier Cru, especially with oysters. Neither Marguerite nor Finn was fond of raw oysters. "Cook 'em", Finn urged, and she enjoyed oyster stew, a special favorite also of Ned Malone when he visited.

The other women drew Rosa out as they ate. Their fluency in Portuguese helped her to relax, and both assured her that there was no charge for their assistance.

"Appearances aside," quipped Marguerite, "I'm a Christian, and I probably don't make it to church enough. The least that I can do is to be a Good Samaritan to someone in need."

Rosa said that her last name was Ferreira, and she was in Britain because she had fled Portugal to avoid a forced marriage. "My father wished me to marry an older man whom I do not love, to help his business," she explained. "I work now as maid and secretary to a Portuguese businessman here. But he has been caught smuggling, and is being evicted from Britain. He was lucky to avoid prison, I think. But he leaves in a week, and I shall be jobless. Probably, without a job, I, too, will be deported. I suppose that I shall have to marry that man after all, to please Papa." She licked her lips nervously, eyes downcast.

But Finn's eyes lit up. "Are you a good maid, and willing to learn better English? I can help with that, and Clarice is leaving to marry. I'm looking for a new maid. My husband told me to find one soon. You can meet him tonight, and if he approves, we will give you a job."

The phone rang, and Daniel, the butler, went to answer. He was quickly back. "Countess, your husband is on the line."

Marguerite went to the 'phone, admonishing Finn to leave some wine for her. Finn grimaced, explaining that she would have left enough for Marguerite to have a second glass, anyway. "Sometimes, Lady Roxton treats me like a child."

"Well, ma'am," said Daniel cautiously, "she came from a background that left her somewhat anxious about her resources, did she not? I have that impression from what you and the master have said. I feel sure that she realizes what a fine lady you are. She can hardly fail to do so; she knows you well. She very likely was just joking or said that automatically."

Finn smiled at him, and held out her glass. "Will you pour, Daniel? I'm told that I'm not supposed to pour my own wine unless I'm alone."

"You're not, Finnykins," commented a returning Marguerite. "And don't pour on your own when you're alone, too much. You're too young for that." She smirked. "Listen, everyone: that was my husband, Lord John Roxton, the XVIIIth Earl of Avebury. He was very concerned when I told him what happened, and he is coming over from Avebury for a few days. Finn, will that strain your accommodations? We can use our own townhouse, but perhaps we should stick together for mutual protection just now."

Finn looked shocked and offended. "Hell, no, Marguerite. We can fit Johnny in. He's like my brother, as you well know. I'm actually glad that he's coming. He'll keep you in line, and we may need his help."

"Speaking of help, I think I see Churchill's car out the window. It's a Rolls-Royce that's the right color, and yours is in the garage again. If Rosa needs help with her visa and you and George hire her, maybe Winston can make sure that her stay here is assured." Marguerite knew Churchill fairly well, and was glad that he was stopping by. If nothing else, he was entertaining. Given a glass of good brandy, he told funny stories, and was a witty raconteur.

Rosa was stunned. "_Senhor_ Winston Churchill, from the Parliament? Lord Churchill? He is here? What shall we do, curtsy as he enters?"

"No," laughed Finn. "But my husband will be with him. We can curtsy to him. He's a _really_ important man."

Marguerite rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, Rosa. Just watch what the rest of us do. Neither of these men is the King, after all. Finn just dotes on George as if he was. In fact, she probably takes better care of him than the Palace staff take of His Majesty. And Lord Roxton will be here tomorrow morning. Now, that is a man who you'll find impressive, not that George and Winston aren't, too. But they're just men. Lord Roxton is a god!"

Finn laughed. "Both of us are very much in love with our men, Rosa, and you'll like both, and Mr. Churchill. Just be polite and don't panic. I'll tell Winston that you'll vote for him if he gets you citizenship here. He'll like that!" And everyone laughed, except for poor Rosa. She felt caught up in a dream fantasy, or a movie. She hoped that it would not turn out to be a horror film…

The door opened, Challenger using his key as Daniel went to receive him and his famous guest.

The others came forward and Churchill was led off to the table by Marguerite. Finn caught Marguerite's eye and curtsied deeply to Challenger (who looked baffled) before taking her in his arms.

"Darling, what on Earth?" he muttered as she squeezed him heartily.

"I'll tell you later, Genius. Private joke. Marguerite sort of put me up to it." She kissed him and he led her to the table.

Challenger wondered if he should ask later what the curtsy was about. Some of the things that Finn and Marguerite got up to amazed him. But he was glad that they had one another. They were remarkable women, and his life was made better for knowing both.

Now, he accepted a glass of Sancerre and bent his ear to the interesting tale of Rosa and how she came to be in his dining room. Marguerite was careful to omit the part about her illegal gun, hoping that the villains were never found. Of course, she would tell Challenger later, and tell her husband. No one else need know, unless the thugs continued to be a threat. With luck, they would have a discreet doctor treat the ruined knee, and disappear into London's criminal underground. .But Rosa would need to be moved out of her flat under armed protection. It wouldn't do to become careless. Marguerite was never careless. In her world, those who were too casual often died before their time. Lady Roxton wanted to live out her full allotment of days.

In bed that night, Finn asked her mate what he thought of Rosa.

"She seems quite nice, Darling, but dare we trust her? She has been working for a smuggler! Maybe those thugs trying to take her are part of some criminal ring in which she's involved. Let's proceed carefully, and see what the police say about her record, if any. I took care to lock our door, by the way."

"Thanks, Genius. I'll watch her, but my gut feeling tells me that she's okay, and is what she says." Finn relied a lot on her instincts.

She cuddled next to George as he told of his day with Churchill and the Ministry of Defence bureaucrats who had agreed to support purchase of the improved cordite gunpowder formula, but refused to endorse the bogie wheels for tanks.

"The blithering idiots say that we don't need better tanks, as there will be no more civilized wars, just police actions in the colonies. Oh, well: I shall perhaps be able to sell them to the Americans. They have a Col. Patton who seems eager to modernize their armored forces."

Finn ran a hand up his leg and stroked her electric fingernails along his loins. "Want a consolation prize, Lover? Or, we could call it a congratulatory prize for getting them to buy the better gunpowder. "

He played with her hair and ears. "That sounds as if it may have worthwhile possibilities. What sort of prize did you have in mind, Finn?"

She raised up on an elbow, leaned over, kissed him, and said, "Anything I've got to give that you want, Genius. I thought of gift-wrapping myself, but I thought you might prefer me unwrapped, which is why my ankle bracelet is all that I have on."

"I see," replied the distinguished scientist. "In that case, young lady, come here. I'll think of some things for you to do before you sleep. You'll get enough exercise that you can skip your workout tomorrow."

And she came into his arms, at which point we will draw the curtain, lest we embarrass any shy readers. Suffice to say, they were tired but very happy by the time that they slept.

Down the hall, Rosa lay in bed, thinking about her bleak future, if she wasn't hired by this couple. She liked them, and thought of accepting their offer, if it was made. But what of the men who had attacked her!

Was she even safe if she went to her flat now? Tomorrow would be a big day for her. But she was curious about this Lord Roxton. He sounded to be both strongly protective and glamorous. He must be an interesting man to know, as were his friends.

CHAPTER FOUR

At breakfast, The Challengers were briefly alone until Rosa came in. She had shared the maid's room with Clarice, a spare bed being in there. Finn wanted to speak to Clarice later, knowing that the two girls would have talked, and she wanted Clarice's take on Rosa.

Rosa was urged to join the Challengers, rather than eat in the kitchen with the staff. Told that she could choose between tea and coffee, she selected the latter.

"A wise choice, at least in the morning," said Lady Roxton, joining them. "I say that a day without coffee is a day without substance or appeal."

"You say that, all right," quipped Finn. "In this case, I'm inclined to think you may even be right."

"Hmpf," retorted Marguerite. "Spoken like a typical South American." She told Daniel that she'd prefer her eggs to be scrambled. "My husband likes them over easy, if not boiled. I enjoy watching him play with his food."

"Oh, Daniel," Challenger interjected. "Before you go for the eggs, about that Sancerre yesterday...are we out of good Chablis or white Burgundy? The Sancerre was quite good, but with Churchill coming, I'd have preferred something a bit more distinguished."

I'm sorry, Sir," said Daniel. "We hadn't realized that you'd be home so early, and you were dining with Mr. Churchill. Mrs. Challenger quite likes Sauvignon blanc. But we do have a case left of Chateau Carbonnieux, from Graves. And always, some fine white Burgundies, including Chablis. Did I choose poorly?"

"It was my fault, Genius," admitted Finn. "I just didn't expect you so soon. But I thought the wine was pretty good, and Churchill likes reds better, anyway. But you two had eaten, we were having fish, and I didn't want to open anything too expensive when you weren't home..."

"Hmmm," said the famous scientist. "A good point. Very well, Daniel. Lay in another case or two of white Bordeaux, I suppose, and some of that Loire wine that Madame likes, some sort of good Chenin blanc. And remind me tomorrow when I'm doing the books to give you a slight rise in salary."

"Thank you, Sir," said a surprised-but-grateful Daniel, and went off to tell the cook the egg orders.

"I didn't really like that wine," deadpanned Marguerite. "Tastes too much like watery grapefruit juice with grassy mineral and melon overtones. I think you were quite right to object, George. It's all Finnykins's fault. If I were you, I'd spank her."

Challenger blushed, and Finn flipped a bit of toast at Marguerite before both women laughed. Rosa's eyes grew large again before she realized that this was probably an example of the strange British humor, and a sign of the closeness between Mrs. Challenger and Lady Roxton. Rosa wished that she had such a good friend and one as brave as these lovely, daring women. She had seen the affection between the Challengers. She wondered what Lord Roxton would be like. He should be arriving before long. She saw Mrs. Challenger buttering a slice of whole wheat toast for her husband and wondered whether Lady Roxton did that. Would an Earl have a special servant for that purpose or to pour his drinks?

Rosa noted that Mrs. Challenger and Lady Roxton wore riding breeches with tall brown boots and light blue blouses, and that each wore a revolver on a gun belt with a hunting knife and extra ammunition. But they didn't seem troubled, beyond having armed themselves. The butler and the chauffeur wore guns in shoulder holsters, and she had seen a pistol in Challenger's waistband under his unbuttoned vest. She felt both uneasy and reassured.

Challenger finished eating and told them that he needed to retire to his study to complete his plans on a new invention. He had no laboratory in this London home, but was very active here in marketing his schemes and products. Finn went in with him for a time, and later personally took in a pot of tea and sat with him. Rosa was impressed with the evident closeness of the couple. She liked the way that they looked at one another and how their hands often touched.

She was shown the basic duties that she would perform if hired, and found that she liked Clarice, although the latter had a certain British reserve. Rosa sensed some resentment and suspicion that she was sure was race-based. But the male servants were more outgoing and she was quite sure that they admired her looks. She decided that some of Clarice's attitude was affected by this friendliness on the part of the men. This discovery made her smile inwardly, as one woman will when she senses that she has proven more appealing to men than has a rival.

Marguerite and Finn sat Rosa down and talked to her at length, simple questions about her life and about Portugal. She felt bold enough to ask Finn about her origins, and why she didn't appear to be Hispanic. Finn told about her parents being Anglo, her father an American. But she avoided mentioning that her mother was an Amazon, or the descendant of them. Such a concept was not something that she discussed with many, let alone the discovery that her friend Ned Malone was in all likelihood her great, great grandfather!

Finally, they heard the chauffeur pull up the Rolls-Royce outside, and Lord Roxton got out and was welcomed at the door by his wife and the Challengers, George having seen the car arrive from the train station.

The Roxtons hugged briefly, but Rosa sensed that they would have done more, had there not been an audience. As for Roxton, he was a big man, almost as large as Challenger, and moved well. He had both power and grace, and a style that was not quite regal, but very distinguished. He moved like an aristocrat, she thought, and like a god, as his wife had joked that he was. A bit like a big cat, too, she thought. A tiger?

Rosa caught herself raising her hand to her mouth in awe and wonder. She felt a warm flush suffuse her features and hoped desperately that no one had noticed.

After greeting his wife, Roxton shook hands warmly with the professor, who was obviously a close friend. The men greeted one another enthusiastically, and Roxton hugged an eager Finn, who was clearly delighted to see him. He kissed her cheek and tousled her hair playfully as she blushed and smiled radiantly. Finn had told Rosa that if some men were gods, hers was Zeus, but that Roxton was a Hercules on Earth.

Marguerite had laughed, but agreed that her husband was the next best thing to having that male deity in her bed. "But he's a hunter, so I suppose I really think of him more as Orion."

The chauffeur and the butler brought in Lord Roxton's luggage. He had only two suitcases and a deluxe rifle case. Rosa stared at the last as the chauffeur carried it past her to the room where Marguerite was already in residence.

"No worries, Miss," he said. "His Lordship always brings a rifle. He's like Mrs. Challenger: you'll seldom find either without one. Doesn't necessarily mean that he's going to have a go at those sods that roughed you up. But he might. He won't half like the way they treated the Countess."

Rosa stood timidly, hoping that Roxton wouldn't see her. But he did and walked over, with Finn hanging onto one arm and Lady Roxton on the other. He looked magnificent in a hound's-tooth checked suit and polished black wingtip shoes fastened with a strap and buckle. There was a small maroon ribbon in his lapel that Rosa knew stood for the Victoria Cross, which he had been awarded in the World War. She had heard Finn mention this with pride and a little awe.

"You'll be Rosa, I expect," he said, and his voice thrilled the girl. "I understand that you've had a patch of trouble with some vermin who were foolish enough to menace Lady Roxton. A dangerous decision on their part. They're lucky that she didn't shoot their eyes out. I've seen her do that to men who upset her enough. But you're safe here. We'll see that you aren't threatened again."

Rosa remembered how Finn had greeted Challenger the night before, and she mimicked that deep curtsy. "I am at your service, great lord. I do not deserve the kindness that you have all shown to me. I regret that you have come all the way from Avebury because of something affecting me. I regret to be an intrusion to one such as you, and to these others, your friends."

Roxton smiled and kissed her hand, making Rosa feel as she was being courted by a Knight of the Round Table or was a courtesan at the palace of the Sun King. She saw Marguerite's eyes narrow, and resolved not to appear too friendly to the Earl. She suspected that he had the same effect on most women as he did on her, and she did not want Lady Roxton to view her as a rival.

"Clarice, will you bring tea and those little cornmeal muffins that Mrs. Challenger asked for?" requested Challenger. "We'll want butter and honey as well, if you please."

They sat Roxton down at the main dining table, and asked how his trip had been.

"Pleasant. One thing this country does well is the railway system," he admitted. "But I've been worried. George, what is this all about? I see the girls are wearing their guns. Do you feel under siege? Have you called the police?"

"Just to inquire if they have any record of Rosa," Challenger said softly, Rosa having gone with Clarice to the kitchen. "Actually, what I did was to ask Churchill to contact a friend high at Scotland Yard and ask him if she was involved in that smuggling thing with her boss. Or, in anything else unsavory."

Lady Roxton sniffed. "Well, she has the body to do unsavory things. Maybe she takes liberties with her male employers. She certainly has that effect on the men here. Finn, you may need to be wary of her."

"Oh, now, see here, Marguerite! That was hardly called for." Challenger was miffed. "There is no siren or houri on Earth who can distract my affection from Finn, and you should know that by now."

Finn blushed and leaned over to kiss her man. "Thanks, Genius. That was sweet!"

Marguerite was undeterred. "Well, I'm just saying...I mean, look at the way that she tried to impress John when he arrived. Not that many women don't do that. She knows that she's pretty and she knows how to work the shy Latina act."

Roxton took Marguerite's hand and smiled tenderly at her. "But look who I'm sitting with, Marguerite. Who did I select to have my children? When you marry a man with my looks, money, and charm, you just have to be prepared to put up with lesser women wanting to meet me. It comes with the territory." He looked a bit smug, thought Finn and Marguerite. Challenger looked amused.

"Well," said Marguerite "There's nothing like supreme male confidence."

"Having you as my lady makes me supremely self-confident," replied John, and he drew her to him for a kiss.

Marguerite blushed but slipped a hand behind his head, pulling him to her. After a moment, they parted, Roxton grinning that satisfied male smile that said that he had tasted a desirable woman's lips, and knew that later, he would taste more.

"Quite tasty," he remarked. "Finn, I hope that you won't feel slighted if I say that the muffins aren't as luscious as Marguerite's lips. But they are very good. In fact, may I have another?"

"Sure, Johnny," grinned Finn. "I've had the muffins. I'll take your word for it about her lips." She was glad to see Marguerite embarrassed, after the comment that she'd made earlier about the Sancerre and what Challenger should do about her serving it. The two enjoyed teasing one another, but Finn sometimes felt the need for revenge.

"Darling, really," said Challenger. But he was smiling and shaking his head at Finn's remark.

"My lord," said a returning Rosa, "Clarice is still in the kitchen. Shall I serve you this muffin?" She gestured to the plate of muffins on the table, out of Roxton's reach.

Before Marguerite could react, Challenger told Rosa to go ahead, and to bring them around to each of the diners. He wanted to see her serve before hiring her. And she was a pleasure to the male eye, something that he hoped that Finn wasn't dwelling on...

They were distracted by the telephone ringing. Daniel answered and entered to tell Challenger that it was for him.

He took the call in his study, for the sake of privacy. He had an idea who might be on the line.

"Professor George Challenger?" inquired the caller. "This is Supt. John Reynolds at New Scotland Yard. A mutual acquaintance whose name I'd rather not mention on the 'phone had his office ring me today about a servant girl that you're thinking of hiring. A Rosa Marina Ferreira, a Portuguese national?"

"Just a moment, please, Superintendent," said the eminent scientist. "Finn! Will you step in here, Darling?"

When his wife arrived, he gestured to the extension phone across the room, and she cautiously lifted the receiver.

"Hello," Challenger resumed. "Look, I've had Mrs. Challenger pick up the extension. This is really her area, but we both want to know what you learned, please."

"Very well," said the officer, a bit stiffly. He wondered what Mrs. Challenger was like. He wasn't used to sharing confidential information with women. "Well, I had a word with the inspector handling that smuggling case, and he had two interviews with the girl. He is satisfied that she was simply a maid who occasionally did some light typing. She has adequate English, if accented, and isn't awfully articulate. But if that isn't a factor in your hiring her, her police record is clean. Mind you, this isn't an endorsement. The Metropolitan Police do not endorse domestic help, or much else that I can think of. But I have no cause to suspect her of criminal activity. I can query an inspector whom I know in Lisbon, if you think it necessary..."

"No, no," said Challenger. "Quite all right. I appreciate the information, sir, and please tell our mutual friend that I said hello."

"I will," said Reynolds "Before I hang up, Professor, do I understand that your wife is on the line? May I be so bold as to ask about her book, the one where she describes your mutual adventures in the Amazon Basin? I have heard good things about it, and wonder if there is some way in which I might buy a copy with a personalized autograph. If that isn't too sensational a thing to wish for..."

The Challengers exchanged glances, and Finn said into the 'phone, "This is Mrs. Challenger. I have a few copies here at our London home. Would you like to stop by after work some day for a drink, or tea? I'd be delighted to meet you and sign it however you like. You've done George and me a favor, so there's no charge for the book."

"Well, if I wouldn't be intruding..."

"No, no, Superintendent," assured Challenger. "We'd be quite happy to have you. Just ring in advance. We're a bit busy today, and have guests, but any day next week is fine."

They hung up and looked at one another. "Let's give her the rest of tonight and see how we feel in the morning," said Finn. "I think I want her, and we need to be sure that she's safe. Just don't let your eyes fall out of your head every time she walks by." She folded her arms on her chest and looked pointedly at her mate.

Challenger did his best to look astonished. "Me? Finn, are you saying that you're jealous of a potential maid? This foreign girl?"

"George, I'm a 'foreign girl', and you like screwing me pretty well. Not that I don't love it, but I'm pretty particular about who you do it to."

He softened, flattered that Finn thought that he might appeal to Rosa. "Darling, if you aren't comfortable with her here, perhaps we should hire someone else. Your happiness is a paramount factor in who we employ." He held her by the shoulders and kissed her forehead.

She relented, and put her arms around him. "You big lug, of course, I'm jealous. I want to be your exclusive lay. I know that I promised you a threesome some time if you want, but not with someone we have here all the time. "

"I don't want a threesome," he protested, "however much I treasure your willingness to allow that. I just want you, and for you to be happy."

She snuggled against his big chest. "Right answer, Genius. Let me think until in the morning. But you and the guy servants and Johnny are all looking at Rosa like she just stepped out of a cake at a bachelor party, or something. She isn't that cute. I hope..."

He chuckled. "I'll try not to do that, Finn. But I can't help but react some. Any man would. Put her in a maid's uniform, though, and I'll probably see her in a different perspective. I say, is Marguerite really jealous, too?"

Finn pulled playfully at his ginger beard. "What do you think, Mr. Brilliant? Watch her. I bet she does some territorial things tonight. Which will probably go to Johnny's head, but it may be fun to see. I may even make a point of making it clear that we are close, so if I handle you more than usual or sit on your lap, that's what it's about. I just want Rosa to know that you're exclusively mine. "

He smiled and kissed her, then led her back to the table. But he felt amused and happy that she was so solicitous of her relationship with him.

Roxton wasn't the only man whose ego was getting a boost this day!

Marguerite reminded Finn that they wanted to get photos of themselves in Finn's rose garden, where she'd also planted some ferns that would give a jungle-like atmosphere to them. Finn got her Mannlicher-Schoenauer rifle and posed with it, then traded it for her new .275 Rigby. And she knelt with the .44 Winchester M-92 carbine that she had used so often on the Plateau.

Roxton took additional photos of the girls together, one of them holding a jaguar hide stretched between them. He shot at several shutter speeds, hoping that at least one exposure of each would be ideal, one smile better than the rest. These were for Finn's next book, including a full length one of her for the back cover.

Daniel was coaxed into taking additional pictures of all four of them, which he did with considerable skill, having an interest in photography, himself.

Rosa and Clarice were asked to pose, and did, looking shy and vulnerable, but proud in their beauty.

No one felt the need to go anywhere, so Finn and Marguerite compared notes about Rosa and whether it was wise to hire her. "It seems like a really good idea," teased Marguerite. "If you like inviting a viper into your nest."

She saw Challenger passing on his way to the study and called him over. "George, what's the name of the viper that we have here in Britain, although some pretend that we haven't any?"

"Eh?" asked a puzzled scientist. ""You mean _Vipera __berus_. Fortunately, they aren't nearly as venomous as other vipers, especially those of Africa. Why, the Gaboon viper_,__Bitis __gabonica_, has fangs up to two inches long! Very toxic venom, too, and in ghastly large quantities. And India has the saw-scaled viper and the Russell's viper, both awfully nasty. Why the sudden interest in snakes?"

"Oh," breezed Lady Roxton, "I was just wondering how dangerous Portuguese vipers might be. Especially pretty ones."

"Remember, Portugal is England's oldest ally," cautioned Challenger. "And I have watched Rosa with the children. Caroline is too young to notice much, but young Arthur quite likes her. They're playing in the nursery now."

"Oh," said Marguerite. "I should have known. She has even very young men wrapped around her little finger."

"She is pretty nice," said Finn," and I don't get bad vibrations from her. George, I think we should hire her and get her things moved over here. Does that meet with your approval?"

He thought, then said, "Yes, Darling. It is unfair to keep her waiting, not knowing what future she might have. Let's have her into my study and we'll both tell her that she's hired, and the wage, which is what Clarice got when she started, I suppose. Then, we'll have the other servants in and advise them. Clarice can fully train Rosa before she leaves, and I hope that she'll continue to let Rosa share that room. It's only for two weeks, maybe a bit less. If she gets stroppy about it, Rosa can borrow the remaining guest room."

Finn nodded, took his hand, and they went to call in Rosa and give her the good news.

But John Roxton led his wife aside and reminded her that he had come over from Avebury lest the two miscreants who'd attacked Rosa show up. "We need to be wary of them until we're sure they haven't traced her here. Or enlisted friends in an effort at revenge."

Marguerite nodded, looking carefully at the new maid as she came up the stairs from the nursery. "I'm going to meditate a bit before bed. Maybe the spirit of Morrighan will tell me what to think about this. Sometimes, my intuition gets a boost from strange directions."

Roxton held her, looking into her eyes. "I know," he said. "And I respect your intuition. But it isn't infallible. You took forever to realize that I was in love with you and represented the best future that you could hope for."

She looked back, a serious mien about her. "Yes, darling John, but I think I knew that. I was just too insecure to admit it to myself. I pretended that I was too independent to need a man. To want one so badly that I could hardly stand it after I knew you well, but was afraid to commit myself to you."

He rubbed noses with her. "And now?"

"Now? Take me upstairs to our room, and I'll show you how committed I am. George will probably have to come in and throw water on us to get us apart."

He ran his hand gently over her hair, kissed her cheek briefly and said, "Let me tell him and Finn that we need a nap or something. I'll be right back, Countess. Then, you can show me anything you like, as long as it involves us being alone, together."

Finn talked to Clarice about taking Rosa to the store where maids and other domestic help bought uniforms. Rosa was taller and shaped a bit differently than her predecessor in the job, so Clarice couldn't just sell her the old ones. They fit, but a bit tightly, especially in the shoulders and the bodice.

But Clarice didn't drive and Finn was reluctant to send Rosa out with the chauffeur. The shop selling such things was not far from where Rosa had been attacked! Should she and Johnny ride with the car to be sure that no one was harmed?

What about that shop of Marie -Claire's, where they already had to return soon to get their tailor-made clothes? If Finn measured Rosa carefully, could she just call in the measurements, to have Marie-Claire make the dresses? That would leave aprons, but there were enough being left by Clarice.

Finn went looking for Marguerite, to get the phone number of Madame Dumont's shop. Clarice stopped her. "Ma'am, Lady Roxton and her husband are in their room, and I don't think they really want to be disturbed for awhile. She told me to tell you that if they aren't out by supper, to come throw water on them, whatever that means. I think Lord Roxton was embarrassed, but she thought it was funny and told me to inform you of it. I'd just as soon not have to guess what she was talking about." Clarice blushed crimson as she related the tale.

"Anyway," she continued, "Rosa will need the right sort of shoes, and you may as well just get the uniforms at the usual shop. Even if that place that you mentioned will make maid's uniforms as well as _haute __couture_, they'll be pretty expensive, I should think. If you'll let Daniel and Jacques (the chauffeur) go, I feel sure that Rosa and I can get what we need and be back by supper."

Finn checked with George, who approved the trip. "Just don't get caught with guns, and keep a weather eye out for those vermin," he admonished Daniel.

CHAPTER FIVE

When the servants had gone, Finn sat on her man's lap and asked whether he felt comfortable hiring Rosa. He did, but thought that they needed a second car, probably an American Ford. "It will give the staff something to drive without leaving us without a car should we want one," he pointed out.

Finn nodded, and they went to check on the children. Caroline wanted her bottle, and George played with Arthur until the servants returned. By then, the Roxtons had ventured back downstairs, looking refreshed and rosy. Marguerite looked particularly happy, and Finn teased her for her absence.

By then, it was time to make dinner, which Finn helped the cook to do as Challenger and the Roxtons consulted about hiring a truck to move Rosa's things. The only practical way to manage it was to bring over essential items the next day, then get the rest after Clarice departed. There would be no room in the maid's quarters until then.

After dinner, John and Finn took Marguerite's new Mauser out to the screened-in back porch and cleaned it on the table there. Marguerite had noticed when she put the gun in her purse after shooting the thug that the slide had not quite gone home after the shot. She had had to tap it lightly to get it fully in place. That might have caused a jam on the next shot, and she was glad that the men had left when they did.

Roxton remarked that the gun had probably not been properly cleaned since its capture in the war. A few drops of good oil on the slide rails cured the problem, and it now worked slickly. He and Finn began plotting to get their spouses to join them in Africa within a year, after Caroline was old enough to give Finn confidence that she could be left with her nanny. The Roxton child was also very young, so they reluctantly set 1928 as the best date to go. They fell into a discussion of the animals they wanted to hunt, the black tribes in Kenya, and who might be the best white hunter to book.

Marguerite sought out the male Challenger and told him that the Gun People were playing with her new pistol, and challenged him to a game of chess. He cheerfully accepted and they settled in his study with a glass of fine cognac each.

He had just taken a pawn of Marguerite's and was looking proud of it when Rosa came in. _"Senhor?"_ she asked. "I have seen a copy of this book that the _senhora_ has written. Is it permitted that I may try to read it? It looks very exciting. I read English, a little." She looked shy, but very pretty, in a light blue dress borrowed from Finn. It was a little short for her and a bit tight in the shoulders, but was wearable. Marguerite thought that she looked very good in it. Maybe too good, although she had attractive female servants in her own home.

Challenger enthusiastically agreed, saying that his wife was arranging for a Brazilian edition of the book, which would, of course, be in Portuguese. But Rosa was welcome to read the book, if she could. It was called, "With Challenger in Wildest Amazonia." The author was shown as Mrs. George (Finn) Challenger, and Finn looked very exotic and adventurous in her old black outfit in the pictures section.

Rosa thanked George enthusiastically, and retired to the library, alone in a house full of strangers. At least, two could speak her tongue, and she was better off than she had been. But as she read, Rosa became quite impressed with her new acquaintances. They were clearly daring people, very brave and resourceful. And this second blonde girl, Veronica, looked wild and wonderful in the pictures, both in photos, and in some drawings by her and by Finn and by a man named Ned Malone. Both women were skilled artists, especially Veronica Layton Malone. Rosa realized that the _senhora_ was a heroine, even more so than she had realized after Finn and her brunette friend had saved her from a grim fate. Her cheeks flushed rosy as she read of how Finn had once jerked up the head of a savage trying to bind Marguerite and put a .38 bullet through his brain. She shivered, and was glad that these women and their men were now people whom she knew. Without particularly realizing it, Rosa had become Finn's newest fan, and she would ever after look on her employer with considerable respect, even a little awe!

Marguerite sipped her cognac, a Remy Martin VSOP, and smiled at her best male friend. George was also something of an uncle or father figure to her, if not in quite the same way that Finn saw him. She was very fond of him and loved their time alone.

"So, how do you feel about the new maid, George? I suspect that she might bear watching for a time." Marguerite carefully studied her host's face.

"Oh, I second that thought," he replied, a little too enthusiastically perhaps.

"Rosa is easy to watch, although Finn's concern that I may be tempted to do more than watch is unfounded. I could never bear to hurt Finn. She is the light in my life, and she brings much to the world. She has also proven to be a loving mother to our children. I love her and I love the new dimensions that she brought into my life. But Rosa will not be unpleasant to watch. Keep that to yourself, young lady," he admonished.

Marguerite shook her head and smiled. "Men are so easy to enchant. George, may I suggest that you make a point of fussing a bit over Finn later tonight? Put her on that ridiculous pedestal in your room and tell her how much she means to you. She may need a boost to her ego just now."

Challenger smiled and nodded. "My thinking precisely, Marguerite. I have doing exactly that in mind. No woman in history has meant so much to a man as Finn does to me, maybe not even you with John, although I will not join you and Finn in that argument. I know only that she leaves me feeling content, nurtured, and fulfilled to a degree that I had never dreamed would be my lot in life. Never fear: Rosa will not become a rival to my wife. Now, I believe that it is your move. Try not to lose too badly. I like a challenge, and you are an excellent player. Why, you've even beaten me a few times! You're a pretty remarkable woman, yourself, Marguerite. I quite see why John loves you. And he doesn't even play chess!"

He chuckled, and an amused, flattered Marguerite turned her attention to the board. She moved her queen to what she hoped would be a position to ambush one of Challenger's knights.

CHAPTER SIX

After breakfast the next day, Challenger and Roxton, both armed, took Rosa in the Rolls to get what she immediately needed of her things. Finn and Marguerite insisted on coming, against the wishes of their husbands, but wives have their ways of insisting, if they feel strongly enough.

And, truth be told, the men wanted the girls along, although they were concerned for their safety. And if they were present, the men didn't have to worry what might happen to them at the Challenger town home, in case the villains had traced them there. The women reminded the lads of the time that they had been ordered to stay in the main Zanga village to avoid danger from a marauding jaguar, only to be kidnapped as slave trainees by Avery Burton on his ill-fated return to the Plateau. That they had slain him and escaped hadn't erased the shame and fear that they had known while in his clutches. (See the Fic, "A Night in the Lost World" on this board.)

All went well until Roxton and Challenger were looking over Rosa's flat, determining what all would have to be moved after Clarice had relinquished her room. Rosa looked over her things, telling the men what was hers and what belonged to the furnished apartment.

Mrs. Challenger and Lady Roxton wandered away from the car, looking to see what might be in the neighborhood. Few people were about, it being a part of town where most residents worked elsewhere, and no shops that amounted to anything were nearby. A small liquor store and an Indian grocer comprised what was visible without going too far from the Rolls, which they had left locked. A butcher shop was on the corner, but the windows faced another street, and no one could look from the store back to where the women were.

They started back, but heard steps behind them. On turning, they saw the unwounded miscreant of their earlier encounter. He was following them and wasn't shy about his purpose. They realized that he and another man were behind them, and several others were approaching from in front, having crossed the street to sandwich the girls between the two teams of men.

"'Ere, mates, them's the bints what ruined old Davy's knee, eh? What do you fancy they'd like to entertain us a little to make it up to us for that Portugee bimbo that we lost? Ladies, let's step into the alley. We got some plans for you. Cooperate, and maybe you'll still be pretty when we're done with you."

Marguerite brought out the Mauser .32 and shot a man who was drawing a Webley service revolver from the deep pocket of his sailor's coat. The bullet took him in the elbow of his gun arm, and the MK IV .455 went clattering onto the sidewalk.

Finn had seen them approaching and had taken out her sling, hoping to settle the affair without gunfire. She loaded it with a steel ball bearing of a suitable size to throw hard and fast with her strength, and she had whipped the sling around and thrown the ball before a hulking man lunging for Marguerite could react. There was a nasty-sounding _thunk_ as the projectile smashed into his forehead with a suggestion of finality. He dropped like a sack of lead and the remaining men drew knives. One brandished a crowbar. Another grabbed Finn from behind only to have her stomp his instep with her high-heeled shoe. He screamed as she turned and slammed the heel of her hand into his nose, driving the bone there into his brain. The ruffian was dead as he struck the pavement. Then, she had her Colt .32 out and ready. A gesture from the gun prompted two knifemen to pull back from her.

"I told you to stay away from us, you fool. Now you've upset the applecart. I warned you what I'd do if I saw you again, didn't I?" Marguerite brought up the Mauser and planted a bullet in the right eye of Rosa's original tormentor. He dropped his knife and fell dead, the range being less than ten feet as he approached the women.

Finn and Marguerite got their backs to a wall, each of them facing out at angles to cover both left and right approaches to them, guns ready.

"Marguerite!" howled Roxton's voice.

"Here, John! Help! They found us!"

Hearing a man coming, the remaining thugs looked at one another and at the guns covering them and at the fallen bodies. They looked at each other and ran, as fast as they could.

They weren't quick enough. Roxton and Challenger saw them and cut them off. One ran at Challenger, who hadn't yet drawn the .45 automatic under his coat. He brushed aside the hand with a knife that lunged for him and lashed out with a powerful blow from his right arm. The fist connected with the thug's jaw and he slumped to his knees, dazed. Men do not stand long when struck with the full force of a blow from a man of George Challenger's size and strength.

Challenger brought up his knee smartly to the man's jaw, breaking it with an audible crack as the man fell over. The scientist then kicked him in the solar plexus, and the fellow would menace no one for some time to come.

Rosa ran up behind the former Treehouse men. She saw the bodies and screamed.

Roxton took in the scene and asked Rosa, "Look, can you keep your mouth shut if we get out of here? No police?"

She nodded, terrified, and stammered, _"Sim,__Senhor_. I wish no trouble with the police! They will blame me for this, and I will be deported!"

Marguerite found the ejected brass cartridge cases from her Mauser and scooped them up. The injured man had run off, his bad arm flapping until he clutched it to his side. If the bullet was still in him, he was unlikely to give it to the law. Like Davy, he would find an underground doctor, or get some friend to patch him up.

The surviving ruffians were unlikely to admit to having attacked two women. Such coarse men were usually unwilling to discuss anything with the local constables! Roxton pointed his Colt .45 at the man whom he'd caught and said, "I really think you'd better disappear and forget that you saw us."

"Sure, Guv," the thug stammered, staring at the gun. "I didn't see what happened here. I ain't even been here." And he departed, standing not upon the order of his going, as Challenger later joked.

Roxton and Challenger briefly consulted and ordered the girls back to the Rolls, parked out of sight around two corners. They all put away their guns, but remained wary.

Rosa's things had already been loaded, and they boarded the car and left, headed away from their eventual route home. Now, they wanted to leave a false impression of their direction, should anyone see them leave.

"Well, that was invigorating, I must say!" exclaimed Marguerite.

"It wouldn't do to make a habit of it," said her mate, a little tersely, she thought.

"Well, Finny and I had no idea that those men were there. We'd almost finished loading the car and it's warm, so we went for a walk. I wanted limeade or some other cold drink, but that store didn't look like anywhere that I'd buy food or drink from, once we saw it. Finn, I recovered my ejected cartridge cases, no evidence for them if my gun is ever checked. What about that ball bearing that you probably brained that human mastiff with? "

Finn shrugged. "It's just a steel ball, no distinctive markings. If the cops even notice it, there's nothing to connect it to us. I doubt that they'll get fingerprints off of it. I'm more worried about witnesses that we didn't see. We stand out in this neighborhood. Maybe if anyone saw anything, they didn't get a good look at our faces. We'll get the male servants to take a different car to get your remaining things, Rosa. No one will connect them with us."

CHAPTER SEVEN

No one approached them about the altercation, and they had begun to breathe freely again when Supt. Reynolds called the following Tuesday.

Challenger told him that that evening would be fine for him to come around and pick up his copy of Finn's book.

Reynolds came at five, and accepted a whiskey and water, as he was off duty. He was enchanted with both ladies and impressed by their husbands. He seemed slightly uneasy on meeting the Roxtons until they had talked for a half hour, when he relaxed somewhat. Probably, he was unused to meeting the nobility.

He thumbed through the personally autographed book and said unexpectedly, "By the way, Mrs. Challenger, didn't you once kill an Indian in Amazonia with a sling?"

Finn was immediately wary. Why mention this? "Sure, it's in my book. You must read fast."

Reynolds smiled. "Actually, ma'am, I've read about half of this; borrowed a copy from a friend. But we had an unusual case last week. Some chap was killed by what the coroner thinks was a steel ball from a sling. And it was in your new maid's old neighborhood. Quite a coincidence, eh?"

Roxton was the first to respond. "Now see here, Superintendent: are you accusing Finn of this?"

The officer was taken aback. "Oh, good heavens, no, Lord Roxton. I just thought that she might be interested to know that such weapons seem to still be in use, and as lethal as they were when David slew Goliath in Old Testament times."

"What exactly happened?" asked the male Challenger. "Who did that, and why? Many more modern weapons are available now, not to mention knives, I suppose. That's a rugged part of town, isn't it?"

"Yes," agreed Reynolds. "Violence is hardly unknown there, although two murders at the same time is uncommon. But we don't know who did it, and probably won't find out. A steel ball was found, with blood smears, but no useable fingerprints remained. And the dead chap hit his head on the curb as he fell. Made the wound worse and the coroner cannot, of course, offer an idea as to who did this. A ball from a sling doesn't leave rifling marks on a bullet or firing pin or ejector marks on a cartridge case, as with firearms. Unless there's a reliable witness or we get a confession, a death of this sort is hard to solve."

"Was this a robbery?" wondered Lady Roxton.

"More likely, some sort of gang interaction," replied Reynolds. "There were several witnesses, but all were looking out of windows some distance away. Their accounts differ, as is often the case. Up to ten people may be involved, and most escaped. One chap said that he thinks it was the IRA, but he seems to have only a feeling about that. Admits that he hates the Irish, anyway. A service revolver left behind was stolen from the Navy two years ago. No way to trace it, and it wasn't the gun used to shoot one victim. That was a .32 automatic, possibly a Mauser, but the rifling marks were too badly damaged to be useful as evidence. All that the Firearms Section could tell me was that the bullet was of German make.

"Others told us that the two dead men were part of a local gang that has terrified residents and merchants there. They were afraid to say anything except that they considered the deaths to be good riddance. Barring some unexpected revelation, I'm afraid that this will go down as an unsolved case. The police don't like those, but if the violence is between hardened criminals killing one another, we don't spend as much time and manpower on it as when decent people are involved."

"Well, look," said Challenger. "Rosa still has things to get from her flat after the maid whom she's replacing leaves next week. Should we ask for a police escort?"

"I shouldn't think so," said Reynolds. "This was an unusual event, even for that area. But I can arrange for a couple of armed constables to accompany her, if you really feel that it's needed."

Let us think about it," said Challenger. "I may just have the chauffeur and the butler accompany her, with a moving man or two."

"That should suffice," said Reynolds. "Let me know if you change your mind. And say hello to our mutual friend. Of course, I suppose that Lord Roxton also knows Mr. Churchill, as he sits in the House of Lords?"

"I do know him, fairly well," said Roxton. "And we have at times collaborated on a bill. He seems an interesting chap, quite funny when he likes to be. Serves excellent brandy in his office."

They made small talk for a few more minutes, and then Reynolds excused himself, nodding pleasantly to Rosa, who was introduced as she brought in tea and cookies. He found her very attractive in the well-fitted tan uniform and white apron.

Later that night, Reynolds called his boss, a man named Leeds. "No joy at the Challenger home except that Mrs. Challenger was very gracious and signed my copy of her book. The others expressed no particular interest in the case beyond what members of the gentry might. Just because they hired this maid and have a black Rolls-Royce doesn't mean that they were involved. We don't even know if the people seen in the Rolls were those involved in the deaths. Mrs. Challenger did tell me that she used rounded stones from river or stream beds in her sling in Brazil, and that she killed only one Indian with it. Pure self defense. Mostly used it on small animals and a couple of snakes. Killed a couple of men with a crossbow, but prefers guns now. But she's a charming person, very pretty, with two lovely children. The lot of them were very nice and pleasant. I don't think we need give them any further scrutiny as far as this case goes. They seem unlikely to have been involved. Good heavens: Roxton is a member of the House of Lords! Professor Challenger and his wife are well off, and hardly likely to know anyone in that part of London."

Leeds concurred, but added, "What of Lady Roxton? She does have a checkered past."

"Ah," answered Reynolds. "Now, there's an interesting woman. I have the feeling that she is very shrewd and careful. I felt like I was being watched by a leopard when I caught her eye. But she's probably just suspicious of police because of her origins. She didn't seem interested in the case, and none of them tried to pump me for information. My idea about the sling and the witnesses' account of a black Rolls and some well-dressed people involved are probably just coincidence."

"In that case, I'll bid you goodnight, Reynolds," said Leeds. "Do let me know if you get any leads. I'd like to solve this, but given where it happened and the confusion of the few witnesses..."

And so it was that the explorers passed from official suspicion. Roxton beat the ejected .32 cartridge cases flat with a hammer, ruining any markings that could have traced them to his wife's gun, which in any event wasn't listed on her Firearms Certificate. The beaten bits of brass found their way into the Thames a few days later, and they all breathed easier.

The Roxtons returned home soon after Clarice had moved out and Rosa's things were safely moved into the maid's room in the servants' quarters.

Rosa settled in well, and was soon a valued member of the household.

She was taken to the zoo, where she assisted Finn and the nanny with the children, and enjoyed it immensely. And she began improving her ability to speak and to read in English. Moreover, she was delighted with the food served in the house, the finest that she had known.

She was even more impressed when the Challengers returned to their estate in Kent, where the spacious grounds and the lovely landscaping enchanted her.

Two nights after moving back to their country home, the Challengers were in their bedroom, discussing recent events. "Darling, if we ever again encounter a similar situation, I do hope that you and Marguerite will stay by the car as John and I expected. That might have avoided a very dangerous situation that might easily have gone worse than it did."

Finn nodded, "Yeah, I said already that we goofed up, Genius. I can learn from my mistakes. Point taken. I'm not really dumb; I'm just blonde."

Then, she gave her mate a sly look and asked, "Are you mad that I served the wrong wine when Churchill came? Sort of... Marguerite seemed to think that was a serious social gaffe." She pouted and fluttered her eyelashes. "Was I a naughty girl, Daddy?" She stood before him in just lacy white panties, holding her hands contritely folded on her tummy.

"Ahem," said George. "Yes, I suppose that Marguerite had a point. You probably should have looked into your crystal ball and guessed that I was bringing him in and that something besides that Sancerre might have been indicated. And now that I think of it, you should have had blue flowers instead of red on my desk this morning. I think you need a spanking, young lady."

Finn grinned. "Have to catch me first!" she cried, and fled around the bed.

Challenger flipped off of the mattress and pursued her. Being larger and nearly as fast, with longer legs, he caught her within a few strides, seized her wrists in one large hand, and led her back to the bed, where he tripped her and rolled her onto the sheets. He continued to hold her hands as he used his other hand to tickle her until she was laughing hysterically.

"I give up, Genius," she howled. "Enough! Just spank me!"

Challenger tousled her hair before he took her over his lap, holding one arm behind her as he began paddling her delightful bottom.

Rosa walked quietly past the bedroom, having sneaked upstairs to recover a bit of sewing that she'd forgotten earlier. She knew that servants weren't allowed upstairs after eight PM, unless sent for, so she tiptoed. She stopped at the door, a hand to her mouth in surprise. She heard slapping sounds, with very female whooping and giggling through the door. She realized that it was Mrs. Challenger, and that she seemed to be enjoying something very considerably. Blushing scarlet, the young maid slipped past and crept quickly downstairs, laughing now, herself. She decided that she was going to like her new employers and their home even more than she'd hoped.

In the bedroom, the Challengers, spent after considerable physical activity, much of which might have resulted in a third child had Finn not gone back on George's little birth control pills, lay talking.

"I love you, Genius," Finn purred, stroking the arm that he placed around her shoulders as she lay cuddled against him.

"I love you, too," he replied. "You are the primary delight of my life, not that I wouldn't be pretty happy if the Army buys those tank wheels. They're still stalling on a decision. Damned bureaucrats! Parliament just doesn't want to spend anything in the defense budget that they don't have to. But I think I can adapt that premise to wheels to improve rail travel. Perhaps the railroads will like those. Thankfully, the royalties on the improved can opener are coming in well."

"Um, good," said Finn. "But our real wealth is in each other, and the kids. I feel really rich when I think about that. Thanks for taking me in, Genius. I was a really lonely orphan."

Challenger leaned over and kissed her. "The honor was mine, Darling. You have shown me so much of life that I had neglected. The lab and my research will always be a vital factor, but you brought me so much more. Even children. Better late in life than never, I suppose."

Finn squeezed his arm. "You had a duty to humanity to have an heir, George. Your legacy is so important to everyone, not just me. I get teased for about half worshipping you, but you are an icon of science, not just my guy and Husband of the Year."

Challenger chuckled. "You told me that last year. How can I be Husband of the Year now?"

Finn ran a finger along his chest, doodling as she ran a foot up and down his leg. "Genius, you're Husband of the Year all of the time. Even Johnny is just runner-up, not that I want the Roxtons to hear that. Marguerite is already in denial about us being the ultimate lovers of all time. She's just jealous." Finn snickered.

Challenger rolled over to look into his wife's eyes and kissed each of them and kissed her forehead. "You are so precious to me, Finn. I got that pedestal in the corner because I honestly believe that you deserve one. I think that I'll perch you on it in the morning before we go down to breakfast. You need to be reminded occasionally of just how wonderful you are."

She rolled over on him and kissed him thoroughly before she snuggled into her favorite sleep position after turning out the lamp on the nightstand. Spooned in place, she reached back and caressed George's leg. "Good night, Genius. We're lucky people."

"Amen to that," he concurred, kissing her neck. Finn dragged his arm over her waist so that she went to sleep holding his hand.

In the servants' quarters, Rosa stood in her room, looking out the window at the stars. They seemed to shine with a special radiance, and there were so many compared to what could be seen from London! She felt happier than she had in years. She looked forward to a new life, and slept well that night and for many to come.

The End


End file.
